


one times to many

by gaylie



Series: There's no Path [3]
Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety Disorder, Death, Drugs, F/M, Knotting, Multi, Panic Attacks, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Vomit, Weed, a lot of vomit, child rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylie/pseuds/gaylie
Summary: He’s celebrated one or two birthdays when he was younger, but parties didn’t end well when you’re a young teenager living in the fucking apocalypse.

  “HAVE YOU EVER CELEBRATED IT BEFORE?” Blue asked eventually, his voice loud over the soft humming of the Riverperson. They didn’t seem to mind at all.“hm?”“YOUR BIRTHDAY I MEAN.”“o-oh… uh, yea? when i was younger. ’t’was a fucking mess, though. people drank like it was the end of the world.”“GEE, HOW OLD WERE YOU?”“like, fourteen?”Blue’s eyes widened. “THAT’S NO AGE TO DRINK!!!”“it wasn’t like we had anyone to tell us not to. honestly, everyone either drank or drugged their brains out if they had the chance to. it was for… survival, man. shit’s tough there. anythin’ to stay above water.”
In which Sans decides he doesn't want to throw any more parties.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **I swear to god, read the tags before reading this fic**   
>  **then read them again**   
>  **then ask yourself if you really want to read this**   
>  **you have been warned**

He was turning sixteen today.

By monster standards, that age meant absolutely nothing special at all. It meant he had survived sixteen entire years and also still managed to stay sane enough to keep track of dates, let alone his birthday. It also meant he had a reason to celebrate.

It wasn't his first party, so he knew how it went. He knew who to talk to for the word to get spread. He knew who to talk to to get on his alcohol. He knew in what a mess it would end and what a fortune the repairments would cost. He knew how much the alcohol would cost. He didn't know he could just steal said alcohol until a few days before the party, then did that.

So he was prepared, sort of. He hadn't prepared at all, but he usually didn't have to. All he did was place an assortment of cheap beers, whiskeys, vodkas and other alcoholic beverages he didn't recognize on the counter of his kitchen, then hide in his room to pretend everything was going to be fine, everything would work out smoothly. He had downed a beer or two already, the buzz of the alcohol only easing his nerves a little.

"THE PARTY HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET, SANS."  
"i know."  
"YOU HAVE KNOW REASON TO BE MOPING ALREADY."  
"heh."  
He didn't, he knew that very well. But he also knew that this buzzing, this screaming, over-toning anxiety in his head did not care at all about whether or not he had a reason to be moping already. He was. He was terrified and he felt sick, his stomach in a constant state of twist at the thought of _people._ Being in his _house._ _Masses of them_. And they'll be drunk, and they'll be drugged, and they'll be reckless and careless.

He hardly even heard what his younger brother was saying over the shrill anxiety in his skull.

"-AND NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN MY ROOM, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"  
"c'mon pap, you know what it's like. 's wild, i can't control it."  
"WELL THEN GET. MORE. CONTROL OVER YOUR PARTIES!!!"  
"pap-"  
"I'M IN MY ROOM." And with that he left.

Sans knew, of course, that he was right. There were people who  _had_ control over their parties. People that could at least tell their guests, hey, maybe not break my  table in half, take a shit on my dad's PC and steal an antique photo of my family. Not that Sans had any family or PCs, but the message still stood.

He couldn't, however. He just couldn't grip that courage that let him go up to someone and say  _he_ was in control here.  _He_ was the dominant party.  If he told them to stop, they better goddamn  _stop._

He couldn't say any of that, ever. Instead he would just watch the chaos, would watch the wildfire spread with a tense grin and an awkward laugh, pretending things were going to be  _fine._ And then he'd wait until everyone was gone and he was alone with no one but his brother judging him, and he'd clean up the mess that was no one's but Sans' own fault.

His brother would remind him of such.

His ten year old brother would be  so much better than him one day.

The door knocked, announcing the first person to arrive, and Sans almost jumped up from on the bed, his soul racing as his breathing sped up. Easy, buddy. Deep breaths, everything'll be fine. Everything'll work out _somehow._

He marched down the stairs,  opening the door too quickly for his own tastes. It made it seem like he was excited to see whoever was in front of it. Like he was happy. While he had actually just no idea how to deal with that nervous energy in his system.

It was Undyne at the door, the fish monster hardly being a lot older than Sans' younger brother himself. She was maybe eleven or twelve. But she was an orphan, just like them, so there was no one really in her life that could or would tell her not to get drunk, not to get drugged, not to go on parties. She did as she pleased, and Sans didn't give a crap about what that would be. He let her in.

A couple of more guests followed quickly. Doggo, then the mouse. After the dogi knocked the door, Sans had decided to keep it open for anyone to enter. It wasn't a smart decision, let alone a  _safe_ one, but Sans couldn't deal with the constant anxiety caused by the knock knock knock on the door. Besides, laws of safety often lost their meaning during parties. People didn't give a shit about what the real world was like when they were at someone elses house in a peaceful meaning, with alcohol at their hands. They just wanted to forget their lives for a day. Forget that what they were doing right now could get them just as well dusted. It did unsurprisingly often. But the risk was worth the fake freedom in their heads for just a few hours.

Sans was completely wasted before the last guest even arrived, and he wasn't the only one either. He knew there'd been five cases of monsters throwing up so far, two on the floor, the other three in the sink or the toilet. Sans couldn't remember how many of those cases it had been himself. He took a lucky guess and said two, but Undyne assured him it were all five.

"naaah didn't puke  _that_ much," he slurred to the fish monster that was just reaching his size. She would be taller than him in no time, though. Honestly,  _anyone_ would. Except the mouse maybe.

"Oh you did!! I watched it with my own eyes. Eye. I recorded like... three of those times."  
"proof."  
And she proofed it, pulling out her shitty phone she got from her smart ass lizard girlfriend, because twelve year old fish rebels  already had more going on than Sans ever,  and showed him  the three videos of him vomiting. Twice in the toilet and once on the floor. Why the heck would she even record that?

" SANS, THERE ARE DOGS IN MY ROOM!!!" Papyrus yelped, his voice shrill even through the constant noise of the crowd. It stung in Sans' skull, hurt like someone had bashed it with a ba t . Christ, was he hungover  _already_ ? While still being drunk? Or maybe it was just that his brother's voice generally fucking  _hurt._

"tell 'em to fuck off," Sans called back, not trusting himself to be able to climb the stairs up to his brother's room and tell them himself.

"GO AND DIRTY SANS' ROOM!" He heard the younger skeleton command, followed by the shuffling of paws. Sans was fine with dogs in his room. He was fine with anyone in his room, he couldn't care less right now. He just wanted to lie down and not vomit a sixth time.

T here were too many people for Sans to comprehend. Their house wasn't too big, so there were people gathered in his living room, the kitchen, the front porch before the house. They'd even made a small fire there. Oh, he hoped they wouldn't burn the house down. 

T here were monsters Sans was pretty sure he's never seen before. A large dragon monster,  a monster that was just a rope with a flaming tip,  there was one he could've easily mistaken for a water bucket. Wait, he remembered the water bucket. His name was Dishwasher or Washingmachine or something like that. Didn't they replace his water with whiskey on Sans' last birthday?

H e knew doggo brought a weed bowl, charging cash for people to use it, but Sans couldn't remember whether or not he used it himself. He felt like he did. Maybe it was the  smoke in the room that made him feel that way, that lightheaded and sort of high but not entirely.  Not in the good, relieving way.

A loud scream startled Sans up from the ground again, jumping into the air like a cat that got stepped on its tail. The sudden movement upset his stomach, causing him to bend down and go vomit for a sixth time that night. As soon as his stomach was emptied was emptied once more, though, he lurched up again, eyes wide with terror, sweat dripping down his forehead.  
“Dude, it came from upstairs,” a tall, blue rabbit monster told him.  
Sans could hardly comprehend anymore what was happening. He just knew that that scream sounded  _anything_ but good, sounded terrified, sounded like the noise a dying animal would make, and that the noise came from  _upstairs_ , and that suddenly he was teleporting through the void without even initially wanting to.

He landed in his room, panting heavy in panic as he tried to piece together what he was seeing before him.

There was a Snowdrake in a corner, sitting in the dust of someone else, and there were two dogs, no three. And between two of them was… was a girl. A young rabbit monster that shouldn’t even  _be_ here. She could hardly be older than Undyne, but he could easily bet she was even younger, maybe ten or eight. And she was covered in blood and drool and vomit, blood on so many places, places Sans had hoped he’d never have to see from a girl that age. And the dogs were… the dogs were on  _top_ of her.  _Inside_ her.

Greater Dog was already knotting the girls opening, her stomach swelling with far,  _far_ more seed than should’ve ever been inside her, while Lesser Dog was still thrusting into the rabbit’s throat. At least, Sans noticed, she was unconscious by now.

Sans felt blind panic grip on his mind, hot rage as he summoned a Blaster, then another, then a third and a fourth.

“ _get out!_ ” He growled louder than any of the dogs could, startling both Lesser Dog and Dogamy whom was sitting in the back of the room, rubbing himself off to the display.

“Geez, no need to-”  
“ _ **get the fuck out you bastards!**_ ” He couldn’t believe this was happening. On his party. In his house. _In his room._ There were _dogs_ , raping _children_ in his room, apparently already murdered one, and it was- and it was _Sans_ fault. Because he couldn’t stop them. Because he couldn’t lay down any rules. Because he’d invited those fucking beasts into his house to let them do whatever they wanted to, providing alcohol and a room.

Frozen in shock, none of the dogs moved, but Greater Dog finally seemed to get out of his post-coital haze and noticed the tension in the situation. Sans concentrated more magic, letting the blasters hum aggressively as he readied them to shoot. Immediately Dogamy jumped up.  
“Alright! Alright, I’m going!” He barked as he sped-walked out of the room. Lesser dog quickly followed suit, whining pathetically as Sans threw them both nasty glances. His death glare got directed at Greater Dog.

“I can’t!” The large mutt yipped. “I can’t leave! The knot- I’m _stuck_!”  
“i don’t fucking _care!_ ” Sans shouted at him. “pull it out! _pull it out!_ ” In retrospect, saying that might’ve just made the whole experience worse. But Sans couldn’t think straight anymore. Couldn’t quite fully comprehend what was happening, what would happen, consequences and options. He just wanted this dogs dirty cock out of that _girl_ and he wanted those mutts out of his _house._ He wanted _everyone_ out of his house. He wanted to be alone, wanted to crawl up into a ball and cry.

Terror in his eyes the dog let out a high whine. “Fine! Fine! I’ll force it out!” He said, and he  _ did. _ His face contorted into one of pain for a moment as he moved his hips away from the small girls cunt, and then there was a wet noise. A wet noise quickly followed by the sound of something tearing, but Sans hardly even noticed the latter sound under the loud, splitting scream of the rabbit girl, before she turned to dust moments later.

And that’s when Sans completely lost it.

The blasters disappeared immediately, and so did any control the skeleton had over himself, as he knelt down on the ground, fingers digging into his skull and  _ screamed. _ He screamed louder than the dead girl, screamed louder than the fucking monster that had just  _ died before him. _ His hands were getting sticky with a disgusting mix of tears and blood and there was magic waste collecting in his mouth again before he threw up, still screaming. He didn’t realized the monsters around him, didn’t realize Papyrus rushing out of his room, didn’t realize he wasn’t breathing anymore until he passed out in a puddle of blood, tears, magic vomit.

 

When Sans woke up, the house was quiet besides from the noise of Papyrus cleaning up the rest bit of dust still in the room. It was only a matter of seconds before Sans remembered what happened before he passed out, and he leaned to his side to choke up more magic waste, but there was absolutely nothing left but spit.

“DON’T THROW UP AGAIN,” Papyrus warned. “I JUST MANAGED TO CLEAN EVERYTHING UP.”  
Sans didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He couldn’t talk or move at all. The best he could do was roll himself up into a ball and cry as Papyrus eyed him curiously.

After a while, the older skeleton calmed himself down enough to talk. “whe...where’s...” His voice was weak, raspy, hurt from the screaming.

“THE GUESTS LEFT AFTER YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT. THEY WANTED TO KILL YOU.”  
“...why haven’t they…?”  
“ARE YOU STUPID?” Papyrus retorted, crossing his arms. Sans didn’t reply. “IF YOU’D DIE, IF MY _OLDER BROTHER_ WOULD DIE, PEOPLE WOULD KNOW YOU’RE WEAK. THEY’D THINK _I’M_ WEAKER. I COULDN’T LET THAT HAPPEN.”  
“so you...”  
“I TOLD THEM TO GET LOST.”  
So his brother had saved his life. His younger brother, which Sans had promised to protect and had protected for at least ten years successfully, was suddenly protecting _him._ Was Sans really that pathetic? Or was Papyrus just that much better than him? Maybe it was both.

“I’M GOING TO MY ROOM. GET YOURSELF CLEANED UP WHEN YOU’RE NOT...” He didn’t continue that thought, instead just left Sans alone in his room to continue his panic attack in silence.

 

To his surprise and definitely to his luck, Papyrus didn’t bring it up anymore. The party, the rabbit girl, the dogs, Sans panic attack. It was as if it’d never happened and Sans could pretend that was the case.

When he turned seventeen he’d decided to never throw a party again. Papyrus didn’t understand at first. Parties were like a custom for turning a year older. Mostly only, because everyone wanted that bit of time to act like everything’s okay and people weren’t dying left and right. But Sans was sick of it. Sans was sick of parties and he didn’t care if people thought he was weak or lost it completely or even thought he was dead because suddenly his parties stopped. He didn’t want to throw them anymore.

Papyrus, however, did throw parties once he turned thirteen. And that might’ve been to Sans the first thing that would actually trigger him into a full-blown panic attack. That was, until Papyrus got sick of it. Got sick of Sans acting like a broken toy. He’d forced the habit out of him.

Sans obliged.

And maybe it had actually helped, Sans thought. Maybe forcing his panic out of him was actually the way to go at it, because after some years, after more parties, Sans was okay. He was okay and could deal and would only have that ever-apparent anxiety that he’d always had anyway.

Sans was okay.


End file.
